Heaving Through Corrupted Lungs
by mirrored.waves
Summary: With a trembling hand, a racing heart she's been hoping to steady for hours now, and a nervous excitement growing in her stomach, Kono turns the lock. Steve/Kono, AU!
1. Chapter 1

Hello, everyone!

First of, I would just like to make everyone aware of the fact that this is Sydney, the same writer from the _xohearted12_ account. I created another profile recently simply because there are several some stories on my first which I have lost inspiration for, something which annoys me constantly, and I felt that I needed a another place to keep my ideas and stories separate. I really hope that's not too confusing.

Okay, next. Just to let everyone know now, this story is going to consist of five chapters, each written in a different perspective from the one prior, and it is very much an AU! story. In this, Steve is still Steve, a Navy SEAL, leader of the governor's task force - all the works - while Kono is a trained dancer. I know, shocking! It's totally out of left field, and is probably not a plot twist which is going to be easy to grasp for many, but I'm kind of in love with the idea to be honest, being able to explore the more girly side of her personality we are hardly ever exposed to by the show. Also, Kono and Chin are in no way related in this alternate universe.

I really hope you are able to give this story a chance, even knowing all of the changes I have made to Kono's character especially, but it was very funny to create a brand new backstory for her character! Thanks, again.

Enjoy!

_._

_title: _'cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs.

_pairing:_ steve mcgarrett/kono kalakaua

_fandom: _hawaii five-0

_genre: _romance/drama

_disclaimer: _not mine, unfortunately.

* * *

_chapter one. _

Initially, upon picking himself up from the cold, wet ground, Steve is adamant about not wishing to receive any medical treatment for such a minor injury. In situations prior, rather than sitting in a hospital waiting room for hours on end where the rooms are entirely too white and the smell is nauseating, he would often choose to wash and clean his injuries on his own, supplied only with a small bottle of rubbing alcohol he purchased a few months before following the realization that his life is merely nothing more than an endless cycle of disappointments, one which plays on a never ending loop, leaving him feeling entirely too numb to function.

Brief moments of happiness are not left alone for very long before they are quickly disturbed by either an injury or a death, sometimes a deployment is even thrown somewhere in between to a new foreign county which often consists of both.

And Steve is exhausted, worn down, much too young to be so damn pessimistic.

Of course this was only his plan until Danny got a good look at him, staring as Steve stumbles off the concrete, unable to steady his weight and the burden he carries, watching drops of thick, red blood pour to the ground while their suspect is placed in handcuffs and dragged away to an awaiting police car by Chin, taking the opportunity to read the young man his rights, a step Steve so commonly overlooks.

Without having to utter a word, Steve accepts the knowledge that he will not win this particular fight before slowly closing the distance between his position and Danny's car, ultimately seating himself in the passenger side of the vehicle, all under the watchful eye of his nervous partner who is likely expecting him to collapse at any moment.

Sometimes it is nice for Steve to know that someone still cares, that a person will force him into their vehicle when he is too weak to protest their demands.

(it's nice to have someone who still cares in general, for those who once had, had either been pushed to the other side of the word or are no longer around to remind him of his importance.)

.

Steve's head is pounding, throbbing, screaming at him to sleep, to lower his eyelids for just one moment, to simply breathe in a deep, cleansing breath of the warm Hawaiian air currently rushing through the open car window. The pain radiating from the gash on his forehead begins to escalate as blood continues to flow out and down his temple in a steady pattern, causing the skin there to burn and his hair to become sticky.

To his right, with white knuckles and sweaty palms, Danny sits in the driver's seat, his foot flirting with the gas pedal, watching as the needle of the speedometer on his dashboard exceeds the acceptable speed of this particular highway. His partner's voice is laced with worry, the kind where his words gets all pitchy and high, as he rambles on and on about the number of stitches Steve's wound is going to require, as if he is no longer a trained detective but rather some kind of medical professional.

(though, considering Steve finds himself injured about three times a day - minimum - maybe, three years into their partnership, that is exactly what he's become.)

.

Walking the distance between the main entrance of the emergency room to the waiting area, supported by Danny, drains Steve of all the strength remaining in his aching bones, leaving him feeling desperate for a place to sit and rest his head (a common theme, it appears). His slow, steady steps are calculated (as is everything in his life - relationships, missions), careful not to lose his footing and fall, though his boots seem as if they are filled with lead instead of his own two feet. The chair in the farthest corner of the room makes a strange noise as Steve sits in it with Danny close behind, hard and heavy, worn down from the job he dedicates his entire self to, the case which had placed him in this very location, or maybe just his life in general.

Each person already seated in the room around them both is patiently waiting their turn to be examined, each attempting to appear busy by either reading a magazine or picking at their nails from nerves. They all turn their collective eyes in Steve and Danny's general direction upon their arrival, unaware of what to make of the blood dripping down onto the fifth shirt Steve has ruined this month alone or the gun resting in the holster attached to his right thigh.

.

The waiting room is cold, distracting Steve only slightly from the headache threatening to explode from his skull. The walls are all too white, robbing his lungs of the air they contain while his throat feels more narrow than before as he attempts to focus on anything other than the incessant tapping he cannot seem to dismiss.

The front desk, only a few feet away, is swarming with nurses, appearing stressed from their individual shifts, all running around with charts clutched to their chests as they pick up the telephone in turns, each answering with the same courteous response.

Soon, Danny is standing over Steve, stealing his oxygen as the bare minimum level of patience he does possess starts to wear thin from the amount of time the pair have been waiting - though it has only actually been a few minutes. He informs Steve that he is going step aside to call and check up on Grace, but not before making absolutely sure that his partner knows not to fall asleep, forcing Steve to respond with a simple nod to satisfy Danny's rising paranoia, a sarcastic comment, and a traditional eye roll.

.

Though there seems to be about a million things occurring around him, Steve is unable to direct his attention away from anything other than the sound of someone's foot tapping, in a rhythmic pattern, against the solid, marble flooring ringing through his ears. As a result, his gaze is immediately turned towards a woman seated directly across from his own chair. Her left leg, up until a spot just above her knee, is wrapped in a cast followed by a black brace. Her hair, long and shiny and brown is trimmed to a spot just a few inches past her waist, currently being twirled between her slender fingers while her nails are painted a soft, pink color which works so well with her tanned skin.

Growing up on these islands, Steve has long since been able to decipher between a tourist (a common fixture here in Hawaii) and a native, people who live and breathe this life. The blue ocean which rolls through his veins alongside the hot sand which often burns the bottom of his feet during his daily, early morning exercise routine.

And this woman, looking so naturally beautiful and effortless, is most definitely one of them

.

It is not until Steve's vision is blurring and his eyes are closing once again that someone nearby is speaking. His eyes snap open at the sound of her voice, realizing that they are in fact the only two people remaining in the room. Her eyes, big and brown, lock with his own, the same ones which recognize her surprise upon seeing the sight of his bloodied forehead.

Only a second later is she hopping to her feet, steading the crutches previously placed beside her underneath her armpits and planting them firmly against the ground, careful to gain her balance before attempting to move herself forward. Her steps are weird and unstable as she moves towards him, taking almost no time at all to occupy the seat directly to his right. Upon seeing his reaction to her motions, a flash of nerves is noticed by Steve as it washes over her gentle expression, making her appear worried. Her hands rest in her lap as her fingers play with the hem of her thin shirt (which does nothing at all to hide the bikini she is wearing underneath, though Steve's not looking) while she thinks of something to say.

Steve is able to pick up on the scent quickly - her scent - so subtle and warm, but entirely fascinating.

"I don't really know much about these kinds of things, but you probably shouldn't be sleeping." She advises, surprising Steve with genuine concern in her voice.

He offers a small - almost nonexistent - polite nod in return. "Thanks."

A second later, she's clearing her throat as if there is something stuck, blocking her from speaking, and is scratching a spot on her thigh with her nail before resting her elbow against the palm of her chair and her cheek in her open palm. "Would you mind if I sat here? To help you stay awake? I don't know." Her voice cracks in a some spots, sounding unsure and young. A hint of nervous laughter follows her questions as does a slight shrug of her shoulders.

Steve fights the urge to brush the hair away that has fallen down over her eyes.

Again, his response is nothing more than a nod because he is entirely clueless of what else he could bring himself to say. This woman, so beautiful, is smiling and he is asking questions, not because he feels the desire to fill silence, but because he is intrigued by the responses he may receive. He's amazed by just how easy she is to have a conversation with. And somehow, to Steve's amazement, he gets her to laugh, it's small and not really much at all, not even something which is voiced aloud, but rather a sound caught in the back of her throat as it attempts to break through.

But Steve doesn't mind. He will take what he can get from where he can get it -

- though he finds himself wondering just how long it has been exactly since he's been this taken by a woman.

.

"I hate hospitals." She reveals to him a moment or two later with her eyes looked in position, staring - without interruption - at something ahead and away from Steve, likely hoping to avoid his gaze as he struggles to pull his own eyes away from her form, watching as the tapping starts up again.

Steve stifles his laughter quickly, before it takes the oppurtunity to escape his mouth at her statement. He most certainly can relate, knowing that his own mother had died here so many years before, crushed and torn apart by a car crash she had never seen coming, while his little sister had spent nearly twelve hours in surgery as a young child - no older than six, if he can remember correctly - after falling from her bike, refusing to follow their father's orders to stay out of the street (always the rebellious one), and cracked her head open. Several puddles of blood later, the memory is not one Steve expects to forget anytime soon.

"I know the feeling. I'm quite the regular patient, though." His words are intially meant as a joke, but soon the reality of the statement hits him and weighs heavy on his shoulders. Swallowing the idea that he does in fact place himself willingly on the verge of death regularly - whether it be at the hands of a gunshot or a suspect's knife - is not an easy one.

Her confusion is evident to him when she immediately turns and furrows her eyebrows, wrinkling the skin between them. "I'm in law enforcement. Steve." His hand is placed out in front of himself to be taken by hers with his words, accompanied by a small grin he's quick to hide.

After pulling away from his handshake, her finger is pointed in the direction of his forehead, or more specifically the gash he almost forget existed. "Ah, yes. That would explain that."

Steve knows that he could mention at least half a dozen other healed gunshot wounds, bruises along his ribs, as well as countless other injuries which are all a direct result of the life he leads, the people he chases after, and the justice he so desperately desires, but ultimately decides against that idea.

"Well, I'm Kono. Kalakaua." Her is cocked slightly to the right as she speaks, flashing Steve a smile which should be illegal on every island of Hawaii, as well as on the mainland.

.

"How'd that happened?" His question is abrupt, breaking a period of silence they were comfortable existing in, gesturing his arm at her injured leg and the white cast wrapped around it, covered in numerous signatures signed in various marker colors alongside drawings of small hearts and stars.

Instantly, a wave of sadness rolls across her face which forces him to regret his decision to question her at all. It's obvious to him that she has struggled through a lot pain as a result of this injury, pain she's clearly not dealt with or overcome just yet clearly (something Steve has found himself to be increasingly talented at as the years have blending into one another). "It's a dance injury. I had a competition in New York, attempted a lift with my partner, and felt flat on my face."

"Bastard."

Kono laughs at his response (more reserved this time, the sound being made solely made in her throat once again), as she tucks her head lower, revealing the great change in her body language following his mentioning of her injury.

"Shattered my tibia...fractured my fibula in two places. Worst pain of my life."

"I'm guessing you didn't win the competition then" Steve hates that he's chosen this moment to try and be some kind of comedian with some smartass remark, but he feels awful for upsetting her, and it just sort of happens.

But he cannot bring himself to regret it when, following a forceful punch to his shoulder (for such a little girl, he's greatly impressed by her strength), she is laughing - aloud this time. The sound is sudden and light, cutting the silence, before her hand is flying up to her mouth to mask the sound upon receiving a number of strange looks from a new group sitting in the waiting room now.

.

Neither notice the nurse standing in the doorway calling Kono's name as their conversations flow and more laughter ensues.

It is only a moment later that she is the first to turn and stand, with Steve's assistance - his hand placed on her arm and the other wrapped tightly around her small waist - as she struggles to gain her balance with only one leg to work with. Upon getting to her feet, she thanks him with a light in her eyes, informing him of just how nice it was to have spent some time with him before slowly - almost as if in slow motion, Steve believes - leaning in close, allowing him to take in her unique scent once again, and kisses his cheek, whispering, "Feel better, Steve.", stunning him into silence where he finds himself struggling for words or even the slightest response as her hair blows over her shoulder while she hobbles away.

.

_Kono. _

Steve's tongue plays with the name for a long while before, finally, Danny joins him once again in the waiting room, sitting in the seat he had left a while before. His hair is slightly out of place, and the top button of his short is unbuttoned, a strange sight once Steve truly thinks about it, forcing him to wonder just where exactly his partner disappeared to.

He's talking to Steve, about everything and anything, but is quick to notice - being the talented detective he is - that Steve is no longer paying him any attention. It's then that Danny begins to question him about the suspicious smirk which has suddenly plastered itself all over his face.

He admits that he's shocked to find that his partner had actually been able to stay awake in his absence (though Steve does not bother to mention that he may have had some help with that) and has not yet been seen by a doctor.

Steve cannot honestly say that he had minded the wait.

_to be continued._

* * *

How was it? Not too bad, right? I'm really hoping not.

Again, I know that this is very different from the show's story lines, with Kono not being a part of the team and all, and I have to admit that I am quick nervous posting this, knowing that AU! stories are generally not well received among some fandoms, but i'm willing to see where this goes.

Again, thanks so much for taking the time to read and giving my plot a chance. Let me know what you think by leaving me a little review on your way out. It would be greatly appreciated, my nerves especially, being the first to thank you in doing so.

Hope everyone has a great week! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Hello, again!

I cannot even begin to explain how delighted and surprised I am by the reception the last chapter received. All of the comments are so helpful and they really push me to write and really bring a smile to my face, so thanks again for leaving them behind. It's great to hear that this idea of Kono being a dancer is not completely ridiculous to you guys, because I was definitely nervous about the changes I made to her character in particular, though I really hope I'm still staying true to her personality, especially in this one.

This chapter is going to focus mainly on Kono and her relationship with dancing throughout her life. I'm really hoping to create parallels between both Steve and Kono as the plot develops, even though they lead completely different lives.

(Oh, and I'm thinking this story will have six chapters instead of five once it's completed. A little extra inspiration came my way I guess. Not that i'm complaining.)

Anyway, I'll stop babbling and let you get to the story. Hope you enjoy, let me know what you think!

_._

_title: _'cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

_pairing: _steve mcgarrett/kono kalakaua

_fandom: _hawaii five-0

_genre: _romance/drama

_disclaimer: _still not mine. blah!

* * *

_chapter two._

With a trembling hand, a racing heart she's been hoping to steady for hours now, and a nervous excitement growing in her stomach, Kono turns the lock to _The Stardust Dance Company _on Kilani Avenue.

Outside, a steady drizzle is beginning to grow in pace and intensity as her steps bring her through the front doorway steadily, placing her keys in a small messenger bag she's just pulled off from over her head, placing it down on a nearby chair before carefully untying the brightly colored fabric of her scarf. Her palms are sweating - though she is currently making a conscious effort to control her breathing and not faint - as her fingers fumble and play with the light switch of the studio's waiting area. The room is quiet and warm - sunlight just beginning to pour in through the windows - painted a pale purple color, decorated by a row of chairs, the main desk, and about a dozen or so posters taped to the walls, each depicting a routine from a different style of dance. Ballet, tap, jazz.

She knows that she has a busy day ahead of her - her first back as main instructor in nearly a year - and she is exhausted - not being able to sleep very much the night before, nerves and all - but she is back. Finally.

And it feels good.

Kono can't help the smile which flirts with the corners of her lips as she fights the ever growing urge to jump into the air.

.

The last year had been one of the most difficult in Kono's memory.

Though the initial injury had been entirely devastating - occurring at the beginning of a national tour she had secured a spot on - and incredibly painful, nothing could have compared to the weeks which followed. Her shattered tibia required three surgeries to repair the damage sustained, only made worse by the fractured fibula only beginning to heal with the assistance of a thick, cold, metal rod being placed in her lower limb.

After spending ten days in the hospital, provided with one too many doses of pain medication, leaving her drifting in and out, barely holding on to consciousness (or anything at all).

.

Physical therapy had been a bitch, draining her of every emotion she had built up for so many years - forcing Kono to confront her demons. The ones she had ignored at night when all was quiet and haunting, squashing them down into the bottom barrel of her stomach, struggling through weaknesses which had kept her pinned to the ground.

(though Kono was constantly fighting to gain back her freedom, kicking and screaming to release her of the pressures and strings tied tightly around her wrists.)

.

A majority of her childhood and adolescent years were dedicated to perfecting her dancing abilities.

There was just simply not enough time in her schedule to do anything else, untimely working towards her main goal, receiving an acceptance letter from Juilliard - her dream school - following the completion of her high school career. Not desiring to leave Hawaii necessary, only simply aware that a professional dance career would be more realistic in the city which never sleeps than on the islands, where most are focused on their surfing skill.

As a teenager, when most were discussing prom dresses or the boyfriends who ultimately broke their hearts in the end, Kono spent each waking moment breathing through her dancing, flowing with the music as if she had no other choice. While many were blaming their rebellious actions on hormones and the pressures of growing up, she was growing up in an entirely different way, becoming stronger and more disciplined with each day. Every spare moment she could get her hands on was taken advantage of, spent training her muscles, preparing both mentally and physically for any and every competition in the state.

Even at a young age, the choreography she was tasked with learning by her dance instructors was always appreciated, for it was usually in a higher level of difficulty in comparison to the rest of her classmates. Though it forced her to work harder and much longer than others, Kono recognized the faith which had been placed in her and her abilities. So many believed in her, hoping to see her get to where she so desperately desiring to land.

But it was never easy. Not for one moment. They pushed her. Hard.

And she pushed back, unwilling to be thrown around. Blood and sweat were shed on the floors her feet floated against with her motions, followed quickly by tears of joy or of complete disappointment each time - without fail.

.

Though her mother had been reluctant to the idea upon hearing that her only daughter was eager to attend college in New York, it never mattered either way.

Juilliard didn't want her -

- and Kono never took the time to think of a backup plan.

.

While all of Kono's friends were bursting from the seams with excitement upon receiving acceptance letters from here and there (just about everywhere, it seemed), Kono spiraled into a depression, consuming her every thought and action, forcing her to wonder how she could have ever been so naive.

As all of her friends hearts mended together again after being broken - either by the football quarterback who promised to love them forever or the hot guy in their math class who stole them of their virginity - Kono discovered that her greatest love, her greatest passion had broken her heart all the same, tearing it in two, throwing it to the ground, and stomping on it with all of the promise and greatness she once possessed.

For years after that, Kono could not bring herself to dance again.

.

Her family was always supportive - always - a debt she would always be indebted to them for, holding her up through the thickest parts and the most unattractive, when even her own legs could not hold her upright, fighting back when she pushed and pulled them away.

.

At some point, when she was just barely scraping by - with next to little money to pay rent on her apartment and a job which did nothing to fulfill the gaping hole she could feel expanding in her chest - Kono finally realized how badly she desired for things to change. Quickly.

She was desperate for something to spark the fire crackling in the pit of her stomach being robbed of the oxygen she once fueled it with through her dancing. She needed to get that purpose back, and fast, or she would have just exploded from the monotony which had become her life at that point.

Knowing that there was once a time where she had an entire army of support behind her, pushing her to be the best dancer (best person) she could possible hope to become eventually. So many believed in her and the abilities she contained...and she had quit on them, not the other way around as she once foolishly convinced herself.

Kono knew then - after quitting her job, taking out a loan from the bank, and renting the nicest place she could find on a minimal budget - that Juilliard had not rejected her application into their program so many years before because she was not an excellent dancer. She was. _She is._ She always has been. They rejected her because, in her audition, she had not believed in herself, because she was not yet aware of her worth.

As a child, her dancing was okay, developing and growing with each lesson she was always so eager to attend.

Then, as a teenager - a period filled with such self doubt - Kono's dancing became great, far surpassing the talents of others her age, but her motions had become just that, nothing more than a chain of moves linked together by the music, laking any emotion or depth she was once praised for.

Somewhere along the line Kono lost everything she ever loved about dancing, no longer feeling as if it were her passion or a form of escape through times of strife, but rather a career or obligation she felt tied to.

But, as an adult, establishing herself as a successful studio owner had changed everything for her; allowing Kono the opportunity to teach the greatest children whose faces light up with the greatest smiles each time one of them masters a step she had demonstrated.

She knows now that her own talents as a dancer were never meant to bring her success in the competitive industry, to make her a household name, but instead assist her in helping a new generation to discover their own passions.

.

In the early afternoon, Kono's every muscle is feeling strained as if pushed too hard, evident by the growing ache in her lower leg as a direct result of standing, and dancing, on it for hours. But, still, she finds herself unable to shake the excitement coursing through her veins, vibrating at the sight of all the children who had welcomed her back with such grace and love that morning, warming even the darkest portions of her heart. The amount of cards and posters and hugs she is greeted with at the door is almost ridiculous, but nonetheless appreciated.

Kono could not think of time she had ever felt so loved -

- or so at home.

.

In her final class of the day, focusing on ballet alone, there is a new student. Grace Williams.

The young girl, appearing not much older than eleven or so, arrives nearly fifteen minutes early, dressed in a pair of yoga pants and loose fitting shirt with her hair pulled up into a thick, black ring resting at the crown of her head, held back by a simple purple headband. Kono cannot help but smile at the sight of her, such a bright light of energy, practically bouncing in her place once the class finally begins. Grace is quick to pick up the moves - only basic steps for now - as Kono presents them at the wall lined by a mirror in front of the entire group, pleased with her progress as her smile, warm and gleaming, spreading from one side of her face to the next, expands over time.

During the portion of the session which allows the students to attempt to break out of their comfort zones and put themselves out there when asked to dance to whichever song may happen to be playing on the radio, Kono is absolutely mesmerized by Grace and the spirit she exudes, gliding across the floor, counting her steps to herself, paying attention to every alteration in the music and it's steady rhythm.

Kono just knows that it is going to be a pleasure to teach her this year.

.

As she often does upon the completion of a student's first class with the studio, Kono - as the owner - follows Grace out into the waiting room, happy to be introduced to the vibrant young girl's father.

The man instantly looks up and away from his cell phone when his daughter calls out to him, practically skipping towards his location, seated in a chair along the far wall, rambling on and on about how much she enjoyed her class, something Kono is always delighted to her.

Kono waits for her turn to speak, standing in front of the pair with her hands tucked inside the pockets of her baggy sweatpants. Finally, the man, blonde and slightly shorter than herself, turns to face her, wearing a smile similar to that of his daughter. Kono cannot help but notice the badge attached to the belt of his dress pants.

She also does not miss the expression he attempts to conceal after finally getting a chance to look at her properly. His eyebrows rise up into his forehead while his eyes widen just slightly, as if he recgonizes her from someplace, though Kono is almost positive she has never met this man before this moment.

"Dad, this is Miss. Kono," Grace is the first to speak up, pushing her father closer who already has his hand extending out in front of his chest, offering it to her. "She's my teacher."

Kono smiles down at the beaming girl, thanking her for her for the introduction, before taking his hand gently. "Hi. It's nice to meet you."

Now, his eyebrows are no longer raised into his hairline but rather furrowing into his eyes, possibly trying to match her face and name to another somewhere in his memory. "Uh, yeah, it's nice to meet you, too. I'm Danny. I hope Gracie wasn't too much trouble for you." He teases, appearing to have dismissed his initial confusion for the time being, with a gentle nudge to his daughter's shoulder.

"No, brah. She was great. She was a natural."

"Good. That's great to hear."

A short conversation ensues, general questions asked on Danny's part before the ringing of a cellphone slices through the air. Almost instantly, Kono watches as Grace's demeanor shifts from one of energy and excitement to another of upset as her father picks up the phone, apologizing immensely as he is forced to excuse himself for a moment, completely aware of just who exactly is going to be on the other end of the line.

After the phone call is ended, Danny joins them once again in the center of the room, explaining to his daughter that they are not going to be able to go see that movie tonight because of work. Grace nods in understanding though unable to mask the disappointment she is probably feeling, Kono concluding that this may be something which occurs regularly but knows that her opinion is not necessary.

"Well, Grace, I will see you next week. Make sure you bring that song with you." Kono quickly breaks the silence, referencing the small assignment she had given the class for homework, as Danny struggles to ignore the sadness he has just caused for his daughter, looking to adore her existence entirely.

"Yeah, okay. Thanks." Grace's eyes are sad when she finally looks up at Kono, who is suddenly getting the urge to offer her a hug and before she's even aware of it, Kono is bending down to Grace's height, holding her arms out long and wide, waiting to be filled by the young girl's warmth.

There is not a moment of hesitation by the person receiving the comfort. "You are very welcome, sweetie." Kono speaks in a calm, soothing tone, squeezing Grace tightly once more before standing to her feet.

Only a second later Grace and her father are turning on their heels to leave, closing the door behind their retreating bodies as Danny wraps a gentle arm around his daughter's slumping shoulders.

.

After the rest of the staff has called it a day and left for the night, Kono is the only one remaining, responsible for cleaning things up before ultimately locking up, and for a long while is left contemplates whether or not she should take the opportunity to use the open dance floor.

Only the smallest, most rational portion of her brain protests resulting in her fingers are pressing the start button of the speaker machine, allowing it a moment to load disc which had been placed inside, and the slow, growing sound of the song echoes against the wall, transporting her Kono to an entirely different place. She inhales in a breath, long and steady, standing with her feet apart and her arms at her side, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror before her limbs begin to cooperate, stiff from so many months without much activity at all, but it's a start.

She will get there eventually, Kono knows it, but she has to admit, it feels amazing - renewing - finally being able to move, to dance, to be one with the music which digs it's way into her soul, forcing her to feel more on this floor, dancing, than anywhere else in the world.

_The Stardust Dance Company _on Kilani Avenue does not close for hours past dark that night.

_to be continued._

* * *

Yay! Two chapters down, four? to go! I'm excited. Are you excited? lol I don't know what I'm saying.

I must admit that I really had a lot of fun with this chapter, creating an entirely new story for Kono (although we really don't know much about her family or background story from the show, a really flow in their development of her character in my opinion). Having so much creative control because of the career i've given her is awesome, but still hoping to keep her as the strong, confident, independent woman she is. Hope I did her justice. Let me know!

Thanks so much for reading! and if you don't mind leaving a comment down at the bottom of the page that would be great.

Have a great night everyone! See you next time. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Hello!

I'm back with a new chapter and would just like to thank everyone again who has been reading and commenting for their support. Again, it means so much and really gets my writing even faster.

Though this chapter is significantly shorter than the two previous ones posted, I am happy with it. It's really nothing more than a building block for the next chapter as well as the remaining parts of the story. I hope it's not boring for you guys though.

Now to the story! cause i'm sure you did click the link to listen to my babble. Anyway, enjoy!

_._

_title: _'cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

_pairing: _steve mcgarrett/kono kalakaua

_fandom: _hawaii five-0

_genre: _romance/drama

_disclaimer: _still makes me cry a lot to know these characters do not belong to me, honestly.

* * *

_chapter three. _

Steve's lungs begin to burn when a series of strong gusts blow against his skin, while his bare feet pound against the sand of the beach, propelling him forward as he runs along the rolling waves of the Pacific Ocean, crashing around the shore - the water glowing from the rising rays of sunlight just beginning to peak over the horizon. Though no one at all is out during this hour, Steve doesn't mind much. He's used to it, he'll even admit to preferring it better this way anyway, allowing him the necessary time to be left alone with his thoughts, as manic and jumbled as they can be.

His shirt is soaked with sweat once he finally makes his way back onto the lanai of his home, allowing himself a moment to take in the scenery, accompanied by a mug of coffee, the beauty of Hawaii all around him. Beyond the water is a vast stretch of mountains covered in lush greenery, a tone similar to the of the vibrant color of the ocean, reminding Steve of the paradise he is privledged to call his home.

.

Following a warm shower - longer than usually - which instantly relaxes the tense muscles in his shoulders and back, sore from a physical altercation he was involved in the day before and a decent nap, Steve takes full advantage of the time his only day off of the month allows him. He throws on a pair of black sweatpants, eager to prepare a quality breakfast as his stomach starts to growl from hunger. But just before he's about to turn on the burner of the stove and cook a batch of eggs, the governor is talking into his ear, explaining to Steve the details of a murder which occurred on the opposite side of the city an hour before.

So much for his day off.

.

Steve can tell there's something Danny is eager to tell him.

He's acting strange (though not any more weird than any other day), pacing around in circles, running his hands through his hair constantly, stumbling over his words each time he attempts to speak about anything other than their case. It's all very worrying to Steve and he's curious to what could possibly be causing the anxious behavior, wondering when would be the proper time to question his partner, but before he has the chance, Chin is storming into the office, informing him of new evidence, holding out a file containing their suspect's phone records from the previous week, leading them directly to him by the end of the afternoon, a job well done.

.

Steve's eyes are locked on the road ahead, driving in the direction of headquarters while the radio station plays throughout the vehicle.

Danny is singing along to the words - loud enough to be heard but entirely out of tune (the man is one of many talents, but Steve's just not sure singing should be considered as one) - in the passenger seat, clearly excited to be heading home for the night, only to return bright and early tomorrow morning. The man is practically bouncing in his seat to the music, emphasizing his motions with elaborate hand movements which happen to match the song's beat.

They are about three minutes away from their destination when Danny rotates the upper portion of his body suddenly to face the driver, a cautious expression present on his features. At first, noticing the behavior, Steve is hesitant to ask questions, unsure of what he could possibly be getting himself into - likely a lengthy rambling sessions about pineapples or New Jersey which could easily be stretched into an hour long lecture knowing Danny and his uncanny abilities.

Luckily, though, Danny pipes up quickly - appearing tired of the music playing and the silence which has enveloped their space. He's babbling on and on about some dancing class he'd signed Grace up for recently, leaving Steve confused, struggling to connect the dots between spaces his partner so often leaves between his words, known to skip important details crucial to the end result.

"And Grace really likes the teacher. A young girl. Pretty." Steve can hear the pitch in Danny's voice alter, raising slightly higher than before, convincing Steve of the fact that his partner is not just speaking to listen to his own voice but attempting to reveal something.

It's not until Danny mentions the woman's name - Kono or Miss. Kono as her students tend to refer to her as - that Steve's able to piece together the puzzle which had been scattered out in front of him.

Instantly, upon witnessing Steve's eyebrows raise ever so slightly at the name, Danny's own expression twists and turns, forming a teasing smirk. Noticing this, recognizing it from many situations before (mainly when he's just about to jump off a building or throw their suspect off of one, sending Danny's heart rate to dangerous levels), Steve is quick to return his own features to normal - harsh and blank, a poker face, perfected over years experience, never to reveal too much, too many details which could possibly come back and get him killed. He simply refuses to give the man to his right any more information to work with, desperately hoping to avoid this conversation entirely.

A long, exaggerated sigh escapes Danny's mouth, his entire body sinking into the seat as his elbow rests against the ledge of the car door. He's quickly realizing that his partner will not be budging any time soon. "C'mon, Steve!" We both know this woman is same one you hit on last month." Still nothing. No response at all. Only resulting in the elevation of Danny's blood pressure, making his blood boil and his hands sweat, growing frustrated with this insufferable man he has been tasked with dealing with for so many years. "In the hospital after the Johnson case? After you gave yourself another concussion. Is any of this ringing a bell through that thick skull of yours?" His last comment receives a glare from Steve. "You were wearing the stupidest grin on your face for hours after she left." Remembering all this leaves Danny no choice but to laugh loudly, kind of amazed by his partner's behavior, drastically different from the picture he often presents.

He watches as Steve rolls his eyes before running the hand not holding the steering wheel over his face, worn down from being on the receiving of an interrogation. He'd like to leave that for the bad guys, thank you very much. "Whatever. But I didn't hit on her." He is quick to clarify the facts, making sure the details of the story are accurate.

"Ha!" Danny explodes with a pointed finger, pleased to see he was right all along. "So you do remember?"

"Maybe."

Of course Steve remembers it. Remembers _her. _

.

A week later when Danny finds himself tied up from strings left behind from a case involving the kidnapping of a young girl, Steve offers to drop Grace off at her dance class in his place, recognizing the stress his partner is showing. `And upon hearing the suggestion, Danny appears thankful, happy to get a moment to breathe, finally having the opportunity to sit down behind his desk and collect his thoughts. Steve takes his place standing on the opposite side, hands in the pockets of his cargo pants, fingers playing with the loose key at the bottom while his partner gives him directions and instructions to make sure everything goes smoothly with picking Grace from Rachel's house.

Only a moment later is Danny jumping out of his chair. His pen instantly drops to the ground when his hands slam down against the wooden table, shouting then with a pointed finger. "You bastard!"

Steve steps back slightly in response, having absolutely no idea of what he had done this time. He made sure to be good today, careful not to kill anyone with his crazy antics. But, then again, Danny's behavior usually has him confused on a weekly basis, always allowing Steve room to learn. It's never a dull moment in the presence of his often neurotic partner, that's for damn sure.

"Bringing Grace to her class isn't about helping me out in my time of need! No, Mr. Casanova, you want to go see that girl. To get into her pants!" Danny's voice is high as his eyebrows pull together, his forehead wrinkles, and his mouth is turned down in a frown, looking at Steve in disbelief, though mainly joking.

"Wow, Danno, you think so highly of me." Steve answers, feeling slightly insulted and defensive, garnering a glare from the man standing across from him.

With his arms crossed over his chest, Steve checks the watch on his wrist, realizing it's gotten late. After offering a small nod in Danny's direction and grabbing what he needs to complete some paperwork at home, the team's leader is out of the office, leaving through the glass doors of headquarters -

- leaving Danny standing alone, hands resting on his hips, talking to no one but himself. "This is going to be interesting."

_to be continued._

* * *

Like I said, I know nothing too exciting happened, but everything that did really needed to happen for me to write the next few chapters. I'm really excited about where this is going and hope that everyone else is, too! Writing both characters is so much fun for me.

Let me know what you thought! Hope everyone is having a great week. Thanks so much for reading! :)


	4. Chapter 4

Hello!

I had a lot of fun with this chapter and happy with the result. The connection between Steve and Kono is going to be front and center in this one, something I know a lot of readers have been eager to see. Well, it's finally hear. And I really hope that it's not disappointing for anyone. Grace has also become sort of a bridge between the two and I adore her relationships with both characters. I'd really just like to thank everyone that has left comments, letting know what they think on all these chapters. They are always amazing and it really does help with inspiration, only pushing me to write faster. So, keep those coming!

Please enjoy! Let me know what you think at the end. Thanks!

.

title: 'cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

_pairing:_ steve mcgarrett/kono kalakaua

_fandom:_ hawaii five-0

_genre:_ romance/drama

_disclaimer: _still not mine, sadly.

* * *

_chapter four._

Steve's stomach is tied up in knots as he pulls the keys out of the ignition after pulling into the closest vacant parking space in the studio lot. Grace is jumping out of the passenger side before he has the chance to speak, skipping through the lot, heading towards the main entrance up ahead, eager to attend her class. Steve can hear her laughter as he follows swiftly behind, though by the time it has reached his ears it's nothing more than a muted giggle. Her hair's swinging from side to side against the back of her neck, the wind blowing it over her shoulder with each step.

It's a sight Steve could never possibly grow tired of.

Grace is such a gentle soul, intelligent, and incredibly kind. Polite and gracious to every person she interacts with. Knowing her father for several years has allowed him the opportunity to watch her blossom into a young teenager - though the thought is just as equally terrifying to Steve as it is to Danny. He's witnessed her blow out three sets of birthday candles, squeezing her eyes so tightly each time while making sure her wish is the right one for the year. And Steve cannot even begin to explain the ball of content he feels ball in his stomach each time she refers to him as 'uncle'. It's a title he's in no form deserving of - in his honest opinion - (he is far too damaged and utterly screwed up to ever dream of being a decent influence on her), but doesn't have the heart to ask her to stop.

Grace is still so young, inexperienced when it comes to life's greatest moments, but watching her like this, on such a high about anything and everything nearly convinces Steve to allow himself to believe in the existence of innocence.

Seeing the things he does every day, both with Five-0 and from his time on military missions, has left him fractured, broken and burned. Both by countless deaths and varying torture methods designed to make him crack under pressure, the enemy hoping he valued his life enough to reveal the information they desired. And though he'd never wish to be killed is such a situation, there is absolutely nothing Steve loves more than his country and he would do anything to protect the people who call it their home. Everything he is, everything he represents is a direct result of the environment he was raised in, both peaceful and inspiring. His time spent in the Navy, alongside his experience as leader the governor's task force has not only shaped Steve into the resilient soldier - awarded medals for years of displaying honor and courage - but also the pessimistic personality who expects (craves?) disasters.

Because those just so happen to be situations in which he believes he thrives. Moments of pressure.

But Grace, she's different, always bright and shiny and entirely happy. Her smile is like no other and her spark is exactly what reminds him that there are tiny sprinkles of good and possibility still remaining in a world commonly plagued by chaos.

Steve would never wish for her to end up like him, constantly regretting and over thinking his every motion, always watching the place over his shoulder where a threat could possibly appear. He would never wish that upon anyone, especially not this girl, who he's grown to love and respect so deeply. She is a light shining through in a cave of darkness, guiding others along the path, molded by parents who've done everything possibly to protect her (and done a pretty damn good job).

Steve would lose all hope were that piece of her soul to fade away.

.

The bell attached to the main door of the studio rings, signaling the entrance of a client. The noise captures Kono's attention as she focuses on the computer placed on the counter of the front desk, but does not find herself turning instantly to look, far too invested in the schedule displayed on the screen in front of her. Her eyes are wandering the numerous boxes which organize every part of Kono's business, so concentrated in her responsibility to check over the weekly agenda, that she completely misses the man approaching her location entirely, oblivious as he leans forward against the ledge of the desk, forearms resting on the wood.

"Hi."

The greeting is spoken quietly, but is enough to make Kono jump and gasp with surprise, a heart flying to the spot where her heart should be underneath, taken back by the interruption of her laser focus. The rolling chair she's sitting in moves backwards as a result of her shock, providing her with a better glance at the source of the voice, looking entirely too familiar and handsome to be the average parent. Until it hits her that she knows exactly who this man, standing before her, is.

Soon, her head is rotating all around, making sure no one had witnessed her reaction before her body is rising from the chair, rounding the corner of the desk, a nervous hand rubbing the side of her neck.

By the time she has made her way over to a spot beside Grace - standing opposite from Steve - clears her throat, stares straight into Steve's eyes quickly, speaking finally, feeling as if someone had tightened their grip around her windpipe, preventing her from speaking at all.

.

Steve must admit, he's feeling quite flattered by her reaction to his presence, positive now that she remembers him as well. It's cute. And very much attractive in her casual style, wearing nothing more than a hint of mascara along her upper eyelashes, a pair of sweatpants, and a pale green tank, her hair even thrown up into a knot at the top of her head.

"Um, Grace, go on inside. Start warming up, okay? I'll be there in a minute." Kono instructs softly, squeezing the little girls shoulder while she listens.

Grace nods, offers a grateful smile to Steve before walking away, smiling once she recognizes a few of her friends.

Watching as Kono looks down at the ground for a moment, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear with a few fingers, Steve's able to notice the tattoo placed near her hairline - a simple music note. It's small, but the placement is girly and delicate.

"Um, can I talk to you outside?" She questions avoiding any eye contact, playing with the end of her earring.

He nods, following her out the door, his wrist held in her palm, her touch warm and gentle.

.

She's better now, Steve can tell, as they stand in front of the studio, beyond the bushes which are blooming with the flowers during this season. Kono drags him down the sidewalk, informing him that her employees are most definitely going to be watching their conversation.

When they first met, in the hospital, bonding over battle wounds - a bloody forehead for him (as well as more than thirty years of emotional damage) and a damaged leg for her - she seemed sad, distant, nearly broken. But now, not only is she no longer wearing her cast, but her eyes wide, brown eyes are sparkling with light, a strong confidence radiating off her body, only intriguing him more. There is something about her that is so very sexy. Steve's not sure whether it's her natural appearance, tall and thin, or the way she presents herself with such grace that does it. Her personality is strong, bold. Everything about her screams independence, making it obvious that she has struggled, but managed to survive, coming through better than before.

Soon, Kono is speaking though, interrupting Steve's thoughts entirely, forcing him to realize his mouth is now shaped into that stupid smile Danny has warned him about so many times before. "What are you doing here? Where's Grace's dad?"

"He was busy." Steve begins, clearing his throat. "And I, being the nice person that I am, offered to drop her off for him." His hand is resting against his chest now, emphasizing his last statement.

"Or maybe you're just a stalker." She quips back in no time at all, impressing Steve with her strange humor.

For it is not everyday he's meeting a successful studio owner who is willing to keep him entertained in the waiting room of a hospital to keep him awake, distract him from the sleep tempting his will power.

"No, I don't think so." Steve's eyes are squinted now, dark and mysterious to Kono. "I'm in law enforcement…remember?" Referencing their original meeting, his finger is pointing to the badge still resting on top of his pant pocket.

She shrugs, lips pursed in concentration, studying his every feature and the expressions he may be making. "So? Do you know how many cops turn out to be the bad guys every year?"

Her expression is comical with these words, twisted and playful, as is her stance - arms crossed over her chest, feet placed on the ground firmly, as if attempting to appear larger than him somehow. The attempt is slightly adorable, but entirely unsuccessful. It's not easy to intimidate a man who has seen everything in almost every country of the world. He has been tortured, beaten, nearly killed. But this woman, Kono, a woman shorter than him by several inches and weighing less than a hundred pounds soaking wet, seems to think differently. And maybe she's right.

Because although he is not immediately intimidated by her stature, the power she seems to hold over him so suddenly is entirely terrifying. Leaving him no choice at all but to smile at her words, fighting the urge to laugh at a comment she's making.

.

Eventually, Steve realizes the time, checking his watch - so previously wrapped up in her words and the attention she's paying him (laughing at his lame jokes and smiling in sympathy when his jokes suck equally) - deciding that it's probably time for her class to start. "Um, it was nice to see you again, Kono, but I should probably be heading out."

If he didn't know any better, Steve may have just believed that she's disappointed by his statement, eyes growing dark, teeth biting into the bottom portion of her lip. "Yeah, sure. Of course." But she's not.

"Okay." He nods in acceptance, turning slowly away from her position, removing his keys from his pocket as he begins to approach his vehicle.

Because no one (aside from Danny and Grace and Chin and Mary - though she secretly hates him most of the year for being overly protective and overbearing) cares that much about him. Because he has always been the guy who is left behind and forgotten. His mother went and died in a car crash. And never really knowing how he ended up with two children anyway, Steve's father sent his sister to the mainland and him into the Navy, signing his son's entire life away to an existence consisting of serving and protecting and weapons and missions with a flick of the wrist and a signature.

But, Steve has no desire to complain or whine in self pity, because being a Navy SEAL and leader of Five-0 is who is and all he's ever known how to be, never provided with the proper time to discover his own dreams. For without his military experience and a particular set of skills, he would be lost in the jungle somewhere, searching for a way back home.

Though, at the same time, without the threat of enemies and actually time to devote to a normal, calm lifestyle, Steve would be able to have a proper romantic relationship with a woman, a family someday.

It is not until he's practically driving away that she speaks, halting his motions completely.

"Really? That's it." Kono's eyebrows are furrowed together when she finds herself pondering her thoughts aloud, staring at him from several feet away, though she's steadily making her way towards him as his forearms rests against the hood of the car, watching her carefully over the top. "You really only came by to drop off Grace." She questions upon stopping in her place, standing in front of the passenger door.

"Yeah," His shoulders shrug, hoping to appear nonchalant, though that is no shape or form what he is actually feeling around her. "Like I said. Just helping a friend out."

"I mean, I just thought since it's obvious your friend - Danny, told you I worked here that," She begins, playing with her fingers, suddenly washed away of the confidence she had contained only a few minutes before, appearing like a child, ashamed of what she is revealing, scared of his reaction. "I don't know, forget it. It's stupid."

A moment passes.

Two.

Filled with silence and tension which Steve hopes Kono is feeling as well, aware of the connection he cannot convince his thoughts to ignore. He is silently praying that she feels the same pull towards him as he does to her, desperately trying to escape her presence before he does something stupid like grab her and kiss her until she requires air again.

"No, it's not."

All of his worries subside just a bit when a blush begins to form at her cheeks.

.

For weeks at a time, Steve finds himself driving Grace to her classes, questioning himself on the real reasons for doing so. At first, it was just a way to help out a friend, though now the lines seem to be blurring together, confusing him entirely.

Each time, a lump in his throat begins to emerge when his palms start to sweat, though never willing to admit to being nervous. Danny, clearly amused by it all, teases him about his antics and how utterly clueless Steve can be about his own feelings, choosing to squash them down instead. Sure, Kono is incredibly attractive and charming with her goofy dimples and dancer body, but she is definitely not the reason why he makes the trip up to her dance studio once a week.

Yeah, right. Steve isn't convinced either.

.

This time, though - equipped with a cup of coffee for both himself and her - Grace doesn't have a class (completely aware of how pathetic he truly is). But cannot bring himself to care when Kono walks out through the front door wearing a warm grin, rubbing her arms as her body adjusts to the temperature change. She's leaning against the car door beside him in no time as if expecting his arrival all along (has he really become that predictable?), stealing the cup clutched in his grasp, bringing it up to her lips instantly.

"Hi." She greets him in a sweet tone, following a few sips off the coffee.

"Hi."

Steve watches a mischievous spark enter her eyes, leaving him no choice but to smile in return before she's whispering. "You are totally in love with me." Her voice is low and dark and teasing, a playful smile appearing when she leans in towards him, breathing hot puffs of air against his neck.

And he only shrugs, realizing in that moment that Steve believes she could be right.

Someday, he could love her completely, allowing her in beyond the barriers he's built. Falling in love with a woman like Kono doesn't seem to be the hardest thing he'll ever be asked to do.

_to be continued._

* * *

Only two chapters left to go! Yay!

And I am so excited for what's to come next that I'm ready to start it now. But, in all seriousness, I really hope the chemistry and relationship forming between Steve and Kono is not feeling forced for everyone and is flowing nicely. I really hope to show the similarities between the two and how the connection shared is sort of a healing method.

In a way, it's upsetting to think that this story is nearly finished, but i'm also eager to get to writing some other ideas floating around in my head. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoyed this and I would really love to see your guys' responses. Please? It would truly mean a lot.

Thanks so much! Hope everyone's having a great week! :)


	5. Chapter 5

Hello, everyone!

How was everyone's weekend? Good? That's great. I really hope so. This chapter is my favorite so far, by far, and I am really hoping that everyone else agrees. Writing this chapter helped in reminding me of why exactly I feel in love with this couple in the first season - with all the staring and protecting. Their dynamic is so unique and when I portray them in my stories, I really hope to capture their personalities and relationships with each other. For some reason, the plots of my writing always turn towards having one saving the other in some shape or form, whether it be physically or emotionally, but i've found that I write a whole lot when there is drama and angst and room for recovery and discovery. I don't know who else has noticed but fluff isn't really my thing. Oh, well.

Also, I'd just like to thank everyone who has continued to read and comment. You're all the sweetest people ever and your kind words really do make me smile and laugh. It means a whole bunch to get feedback.

Okay, that was quite a ramble and make everyone suffer through my babbling, but I really hope this chapter is enjoyable for everyone. Let me know what you think on the way out. Thanks so much!

_._

_title: _'cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

_pairing:_ steve mcgarrett/kono kalakaua

_fandom:_ hawaii five-0

_genre:_ romance/drama

_disclaimer:_ these characters still do not belong to me, sadly.

* * *

_chapter five._

Kono is very nervous.

The master bedroom of her apartment is a mess, thrown apart by her frantic efforts to get ready. Clothes are scattered across the floor in a struggle to choose a dress, ultimately deciding on an emerald green one with a hem cut to her knees. The neckline is strapless and low, revealing just enough cleavage while still managing to leave a bit of mystery, with a thin black belt wrapped tight around the waist. Her shaking hand runs down the fabric as it lays over her body, molding it's self to her every curve. Kono is staring at her reflection in the mirror as the butterflies which have been floating around in her stomach for a majority of the day are now transforming into moths, messing with the control she possesses over the nausea creeping up in her throat. Her hair is a mess and she has not yet put any makeup on.

It is her first date in over two years. Her first date with Steve, a man she's grown accustomed to having around if only for a couple of minutes once a week. He's interesting and mysterious and definitely not hard to look at.

It's her first date with Steve and all she wishes to do is vomit.

.

Each one of Kono's previous relationships has ended badly.

First, there was a boy in the second grade with blonde, wavy hair and eyes as bright a color of blue, deep and wide, resembling that of the ocean all around them. After giving her a flower during recess in school, he spent weeks bragging to every other boy in their grade that they were dating. For a while, Kono believed that he was the sweetest boy in the world - though she cannot not even remember his name now. All of that changed quickly when she found him giving _another_ girl flowers after school, crushing her heart, sending her home in a puddle of tears only to be comforted by her mother who told her that it wouldn't be the first time a boy disappointed her.

And she was most certainly right in saying this.

In the sixth grade, Jackson Jacobs was her first real and honest crush. Walking home one day from school, he kissed her suddenly - her first, short and hardly sweet, lasting no more than a second. He held her hand the rest of the way home, only to insult her a week later, when he informed her that her dreams of a dance career were stupid and that they would never actually happen.

Finally, in high school, there was a really nice boy who sat beside her in chemistry class. Koa Matthews. He was sweet and thoughtful and funny. He could make her smile at the drop of a hat, but bring her close to tears in a matter of moments. It was not until she slept with him and he broke it off the very next day (revealing to her that there was no connection, though he was telling a much different story the night before) that she finally realized what it is that she deserves.

Someone who is going to respect her and her body and her dreams.

And Steve, from what she has seen already, could be (and do) all of that and more.

.

When the doorbell rings suddenly, causing her to jump, Kono feels her stomach turn once more. A few deep breaths later, her wrist is turning the knob to her front door, revealing a sharply dressed Steve, looking so very handsome in his dress pants, buttoned down shirt, and tie he is now attempting to tie. His fingers are stumbling with the material, unable to loop the ends through the knot. For a moment, it doesn't seem to Kono that he's even aware of her presence in the doorway, eyes watching his actions. It's not until she's stepping forward, halting his hands, grabbing the black tie herself that he finally notices.

Soon, his own hands fall to the sides of his pants while his eyes widen, attempting to discretely look over her appearance, forcing Kono to fight the delighted smirk she feels forming as her fingers play with the tie, tucking it underneath the collar of his shirt.

"Well, don't you clean up nicely." She whispers, her voice gentle and soft, melting the depths of his heart.

.

Following dinner, one filled with pleasant conversation and a connection surpassing that of purely a physically one, Kono is unable to find any reason to refuse his offer of spending time at his house afterwards.

The car ride there is filled with silence - though not in an uncomfortable way - almost as if they have known each other for a countless number of years and are not bothered by the absence of words.

Soon, she finds herself watching him in the driver seat, watching as his jaw tightens with every turn of the wheel, appearing so completely relaxed now.

While he attempts to fold the material of his shirt up to the middle of his forearm, Kono stretches her arm out over the middle console of the vehicle, cupping the bottom of his head and begins to rub the skin there near his ear. He slowly leans into her palm then, hopefully finding warmth and comfort in her touch. For Kono, it's become increasingly obvious to her of what he's likely experienced by the reserved confidence he presents. His heart is guarded, careful to never get too close to anything (or anyone). She knows it. She can see it.

Because she's been there. And it is a damn lonely place to recover from.

.

With a half empty beer in one hand and crickets sounding out in the distance, Kono cannot think of a more perfect way to spend the evening.

The waves are crashing somewhere out ahead of Steve's lanai, where they are currently seated now. The wind is blowing, pulling the hair wrapped up into a sleek ponytail out of the band, tickling the back of neck, and he is watching her, with eyes dark like the night sky, practically begging her to give into the attraction she's currently fighting. But it's quite hard when he's saying all the right things without really saying much at all.

She's not sure what it is exactly, but there is just something about him which screams home to Kono. His body is large and muscular (a good place to get lost in), but his heart is really what has impressed her. Earlier while he had been off taking a phone call, Kono found herself wandering around, quickly learning a lot about the man he is, the life he leads, and gaining more insight into why he appears distant at times upon the mentioning of a particular memory.

There are several photos hanging along the wall of his staircase, one of a younger woman with long, blonde woman, resembling Steve slightly, who Kono assumes to be the sister he's mentioned in passing before. Another is one of himself, dressed in his Navy uniform, standing beside a man of importance as he is being awarded a medal of some kind. Finally, there is a photo of himself and an older man, both smiling and wearing the same crinkles around their eyes as they do so (it's a little thing she's noticed about Steve which has become one of her favorite things). It becomes increasingly obvious to Kono that this man must be his father, someone never spoken about by him before.

But Kono is not one to pry.

.

At some point in the evening, there is a change which occurs.

There is a shift in the air and Kono can feel it immediately, noticing as his position changes, leaning forward slightly now with elbows resting against his thighs, appearing much more tense than before, no longer relaxing in his chair.

She realizes then that things are about to take a sudden left turn towards serious.

"I'm not a good guy." He reveals, making Kono wonder just how long he's been waiting to say those words.

She takes a gulp from her beer bottle, swallows the liquid down, and chuckles, responding quickly. "That's not true. I think you're a great guy."

And she does.

Because it's not everyday she's going to find someone who's willing to come to her studio weekly without any obligation to.

"I'm serious, Kono." Steve's tone is deep and verging on harsh with each spoken word, emphasizing his voice with volume.

"So am I." She retorts, though he clearly does not appreciate the shrug of her shoulders, rolling his eyes quickly.

Steve's palm is rubbing across his mouth, moving away just as a frown appears, one dripping with tension and several other emotions Kono cannot decipher between. "I mean...what I meant was," He is struggling for words, growing frustrated with each attempt to get his point across clearly. "I'm not a good guy. Not for you, anyway."

"Well, I think I should be the one to decide that." She's angry now, the pitches of her voice changing. "I'm not a child. Don't treat me like one, Steve. I'm capable of making my own decisions."

The night had been so amazing, both genuinely enjoying the others company. But he had to go and ruin it with his self doubting ways and pessimistic thoughts, killing the mood and pissing her off all at once.

"Kono,"

"No, I'm serious. I am a grown woman and you're some guy I met. In the hospital waiting room." Her shoulders raise at the memory, eliciting a small smile he attempts to hide by lowering his head to stare at the ground under it vanishes, but she still manages to catch it. "I don't know much about you, hardly anything at all really, but I know that I like you. I know that you protect the people here each and every day, risking your life without ever being guaranteed of another day. And, sure, you're kind of fucked up. So what? So am I. I'm sure you're not perfect and there are a lot of things I'm not going to like about you. But what you do is important and I've never been one to resist a man in uniform." She teases, hoping to lighten the mood now, but Kono's not surprise by the expression on Steve's face, plagued by confusion and desire it appears. "All I do is teach kids about ballet bars and eight counts of songs."

"I think what you do is important." Steve's tone is low and sounding sympathetic, as if he's offering comfort that she is not sure she needs.

Kono nods, knowing that's he right, that she is being stupid and overly emotional, transporting herself back to a period where her only focus was becoming a dancer in the industry. A dream which has not been possible for over seven years, but only realized in the last few.

"I mean, I love it, I really do, but - I don't know - it's just that sometimes..."

Her spoken thoughts are interrupted by his deep, rough voice as it cuts through the evening's humid air. "Innocence is an important thing. So is passion."

And with those words, uttered with such care and intensity, Kono finds herself confused as to who they are discussing anymore.

.

Her heart is racing, skin buzzing from his touch. His mouth is currently paving a trail of kisses along her cheek, neck, and shoulders, treating each spot with such kindness and tenderness. And because it's been such a long while (far too long) since any man has treated her with such respect, Kono finds herself leaning in closer with her hands roaming through his hair, pulling it slightly while her body is being pushed against the wall by his strong arms, hungry for more.

Both are out of breath after they finally manage to make their way into the house, closing the doors behind them, all without leaving more than an inch between their vibrating bodies. Their lungs are desperate for air as their mouths tangle together in a mess of passion. His tie is being untied by Kono's fingers, though she is fumbling horribly as a direct result of the adrenaline that has been pumping through her veins from the original moment he has grabbed her outside, causing her to stumble over words and her own two feet.

Feeling as though she may actually be able to feel the beating of his heart through his chest, Kono begins to move quickly, throwing his tie down at the bottom of the stairs, beginning to undo his buttons one by one. Her skin is growing hot, wrapped in the tight dress she wore solely to impress Steve, itching for him to loosen the zipper in the back.

But then, he's biting at her collarbones, leaving her breathless and excited, and suddenly her dancer legs are wrapped around her waist as he begins to ascend the steps. Steve holds her there with such ease and nonchalance that it's almost as if she's floating, and before she even knows what's occurred, her back is met by the soft comforter of his bed.

A laugh emerges from her throat, followed by playful grin. Steve's hovering over her as she squirms around, uncomfortable in the restricting feeling the material of the dress she's wearing now has around her body. As his eyes watch her every motion though a gentle stare - while also managing to remove his shirt, revealing the remainder of his tattoos and toned stomach - Kono finally notices the scar resting just above his eyebrow, healed now from the same wound which had caused them to meet in the first place.

Steve's features change as he notices the change in her own, and Kono can tell he's looking to say something, but she silences him by pulling herself up, grabbing by the side of his face, kissing the scar immediately, revealing, "I don't normally do this."

And though the statement may sound confusing. He understands. Without having to have it explained by her.

It's not that Kono does not have sex, but rather that she has a strict rule against doing so on a first date -

- but, with Steve, it feels different. Longer than that. Like she has known him (waited for him?) for a really long, instead of the few months in their reality. She is comfortable with him and she is definitely comfortable with what is about to happen.

"Well, I don't normally date dancers, but I'm willing to make an exception."

She giggles, embarrassed by the sound it causes her to make, but once she feels Steve's moving around her waist, towards her back, working with the zipper of her dress, Kono doesn't think it matters much anymore.

_to be continued._

* * *

And that's chapter five for you, over and out!

When writing this one and toying with the inspiration I had for it, I really debated with describing the events of the actual date with the dinner and everything, but just found it to be unnecessary. Each time I tried, the chapter only seemed to drag on longer than it had to and I was just not happy with the result. Writing the aftermath instead was much easier and flowed better in the process. I hope that's not an issue for anyone. But in this chapter I wanted to highlight on the strength of Kono in parts, something which is going to play a role in the next and final chapter. The sixth installment of this story is one I am definitely excited about writing and allowing everyone to read.

I hope everyone enjoyed. Please leave a review if you can! Thanks, again! :)


	6. Chapter 6

Hello, everyone!

Long time no see. I know it's been a really long time since I've updated this one - (What's it been, three weeks? It's okay, you can say it, too. I'm a horrible person.) - but things have just been really crazy for a while and I do apologize. My computer went and deleted all of my files first and then there was a small, itsy-bitsy emergency that kept me out of the state for almost two weeks, but I'm back now. Safe and sound. Yay!

Anyways, this is it and I for one am sad. This is not at all what I expected to be the outcome but after having written this chapter three times, I'm satisfied and hope you all are as well. I'm so it's been a long wait but I greatly appreciate the support for this idea. This turned out to be more an epilogue type piece than anything, small little tidbits of their relationship, but I'm still happy.

Thanks, again! And I hope everyone enjoys for one final time!

_._

_title: _'cause most of us are heaving through corrupted lungs

_pairing:_ steve mcgarrett/kono kalakaua

_fandom:_ hawaii five-0

_genre:_ romance/drama

_disclaimer:_ unfortunately, none of these characters belong to me.

* * *

_chapter six. _

The morning sun begins to peaks through the blinds of the main window in the bedroom.

The master bed - positioned in the center, placed between a dresser, a storage shelf, and a pile of guns and paperwork - is cool, crisp against the bare skin of his back, itching slightly from certain scratches left behind from the night before. Kono is laying beside him, wearing nothing more than his dress shirt and a pair of lace panties, playing with the hair just over his ear, running her warm fingertips against his scalp while he draws patterns across the small of her back when the delicate fabric rides up from her motions. The smirk which pulls at her lips - felt against his chest - causes him to smile as well as their breathing combine together, fading out through the darkness of the early morning, both up much earlier than normal for a weekend. Neither have spoken yet, though. He is content with having his hair played with - her hot breath blowing against his chest, warming the skin there, fighting the slight chill in the room - and she is happy with doing so.

He's not exactly sure when they both fell asleep the night before, but he does know that she was the one to go first (something to do with his ruined sleeping habits, interrupted by nightmares and harsh memories of getting shot at, bombs, and watching fellow soldiers around him bleed out and die). And for a while, all he remembers is watching her eyelids flutter as she dreamed and snored slightly, eyelashes brushing across her skin.

Kono's hair falls into her eyes now, but she doesn't seem to mind it. His body is firm beneath her and it feels real nice to be held. For it's been quite a while since she has felt so secure or protect by anyone before.

But soon his phone rings and they're interrupted momentarily.

He groans and apologizes for the disturbance though she has to use the restroom anyhow. Kono takes the opportunity to move away from Steve (against her will, unfortunately) to stretch her legs a bit.

The bathroom connected to the master bedroom is fairly big, equipped with a decently sized shower (big enough for two) and a huge bath, though Steve does not appear to be the type of man who would ever be caught admitting to using once such as this. Kono turns on the faucet of the sink, splashing a bit of cold, refreshing water onto her face, the final step in waking herself up fully as if the rough, passionate morning sex only moments before had not been sufficient in doing just that. Steve's voice is muffled through the closed door, discussing police terms which means nothing at all to a dance instructor from the North Shore. Finally, the call ends and Kono exits the bathroom, walking slowly and seductively across the carpet, dragging the heel of her foot as she does so, allowing him a moment to stare though his intense gaze is intimidating. The back of her knee begins to itch suddenly, causing her to bend down to relieve the sensation, standing straight again seconds after. Her fingers pull the excess fabric of his shirt that's now crumpled into her palm, resting her loosely tightened fist by her mouth which is pulled into a flirty smile.

Steve sits up further at the sight, scratching the side of his face where stumble is beginning to grow back. There's a water bottle on the table

beside him that he reaches for, sips from, and then sets down once again. Kono loves the way he looks like this. In all the time they have spent together he's been waiting, she feels, for another show to drop. He's guarded and cautious about everything, but he looks content now, covered by the blankets of his bed, running fingers through the disheveled hair on his hair.

It's a Saturday morning and Kono doesn't have to work, neither does Steve.

She offers to cook them breakfast using whatever he has in the kitchen.

Steve regrets it later, but he agrees to her request with a smile and a quick kiss as she leans in before running away excitedly, practically

skipping.

.

He's sick for days after that morning. His stomach churns as he tries to sit through one of Danny's lectures about bomb safety and details of a case closed a week before as a fever grows in intensity with every passing hour. Eventually Danny forces him to go home - wearing gloves and all - as he physically pushes him of his office, suddenly afraid of everything infected or covered in his partner's germs.

Even though Kono calls and offers to come by and check up on him after her work day, he won't allow it. Steve informs her that he is greatly appreciative of her wanted to do so, coughs, but politely declines. Disappointment in evident in her tone but having her come up to spoon feed him medicine to treat his symptoms or cook him chicken noodle soup would only cause him complication. If she were to do so he would grow attached, dependent on her presence. Steve would grow to need her around even though he has learned never to need or accept anything from anyone at all.

She shows up anyway - against his wishes - with a change of clothing for herself to stay over and make she Steve doesn't die in his sleep. She massages out the kinks in his neck and runs a hot shower to release the tension in his shoulders before laying in the bed beside him, unafraid of his germs it appears.

.

Kono shows up at his doorstep the next night, sniffling through the doorway before landing on the couch and curling into a ball, waiting for him to hold her close. Steve discovers then that maybe it's okay to need someone -

especially when they need him back sometimes.

.

A week later, Steve becomes Kono's boyfriend and Kono is Steve's boyfriend as well.

It happens in his bathroom one early morning, just before dawn and both their shifts.

She's in the shower, scrubbing the shampoo out of her hair and eyes, scrubbing away at the dirt and sand which had settled on her skin and the sweat that had poured out underneath his gentle stare, fingertips caressing every point of her body. While he is shaving. His jaw is covered in shaving cream as the razor clutched in his palm glides across his face, removing the stubble that has steadily grown there.

The whole situation is entirely too domestic for Steve's liking as if it is something which should be done much further along (though he's painfully aware that his examples of love and relationships are hardly the right ones at all).

But she's inviting him into her shower in the next moment and the fucked up marriage his parents shared is the last thing on his mind as she assaults him with gentle, tender kisses placed with such careful consideration.

.

"Ah! You've got yourself a girlfriend!" Danny smirks and folds his arms over his chest - palms grabbing his biceps - after Steve spends a majority of the past few days smiling down at his phone when it buzzed (or walking into work each day with a goofy grin as if he had just won the lottery). Though Steve hardly responds to the outburst at all, only sits behind his desk, messing around with a pen and his keyboard, bored from a slow day filled with paperwork and meetings with the governor. "Don't worry, I won't shout it too loud, don't want to jinx it."

Finally, Steve rolls his eyes and glares at his partner, leaning back in his chair and dropping his pen harshly against the wood. "That's not funny."

Although - most of the time - Danny thoroughly enjoys teasing his friend about his reckless ways and struggles with women, it is obvious to him that his partner is nervous and anxious about this new and sudden development in his life. "You really like this girl." The words escape as more of a definitive statement rather than and actual question, knowing exactly which women they are currently discussing.

And Steve nods in return, eyebrows raised into his hairline.

Danny's hands find his hips with feet placed firmly on the ground, please as the man behind the desk squirms only slightly at the mention of feelings and relationships, a topic neither one of them particularly prefer to discuss. "Well, I must admit, I never thought I'd see the day. When Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett would find a girl. I'm just sayin', if you don't marry her, I probably will."

A rough sound gets caught in Steve's throat then, clearly amused by the comment. "Nice, but I'm not sure that a Jersey boy with a teenage daughter is really her type."

"And a Navy SEAL with a total lack of social skills and obvious daddy issues is?" Danny responds quickly with a bite, teasing tone, arms folding at his chest once again, standing up straighter now.

The question is pondered for a moment though there is not much to argue with.

"Good point."

"Yeah, I know."

.

Grace's birthday comes around again and although she may be delighted by the gift Steve presents her with at the party Danny throws, her smile only grows larger upon realizing that her favorite uncle in the entire world is now dating the dance instructor she adores.

Kono sits on Steve's lap as she laughs and blushes when being questioned by the young teenager about whether or not her boyfriend is like Prince Charming from the fairy tale. Steve sits back slightly, entertained by the question, squeezes her shoulder tightly and waits patiently for the response to come.

.

Kono arrives at headquarters to visit Steve one day after he'd been away on some undercover operation for nearly two weeks. He had only described to her the background of the case they were following, cautious to not reveal anything which could possibly scare her, though she is perfectly aware of the battles he's fight each day (both physically and mentally). He struggles with his demons, but he is back and she has missed him, eager to see him now.

And after receiving a few instructions from a group of officers outside the building, she is finally able to locate him in the workout room.

For a while, she stands in the doorway, careful to not disturb him, content with watching him in his element. He's seen her dance in her studio on several occasions, while she - in return - still continues to struggle with understanding his world. He is so rough and damaged and experienced in aspects of war she has only feared before. With his jagged edges and new scars to discover each time he undresses before her, she is careful to not ask too many questions, allowing him time, though patience has never been a quality she personally possessed.

He's sweating with his back turned to her position while taking a large gulp from his water bottle to cool down. He may not have looked at her yet, but she can tell that he senses her presence. The muscles in his back visibly relaxed suddenly just before she steps towards him.

To her surprise, Steve passes her a pair of boxing gloves suddenly in one moment and pinned to the mat in the next.

But Miss. Kono Kalakaua is never one to back down from a fight and thoroughly impresses him with her fighting skills as their sessions extends through the hours of the afternoon.

.

Steve's made up his mind now. That it might just be okay to need her. To be needed by someone. That maybe it could be the perfect time in his life to adjust his ideas about love and relationships. Possibly even marriages.

Because although many people have vanished and washed up as quickly as the Pacific, others have remained.

_end._

* * *

TA DA! It's finished and we all survived. I know i've said it several times before but the comments and support from everyone really meant the world and kept me going with this story. I have a few new ideas on the back burner for now, but I can promise that there will be stories to come. Maybe even some more from this little universe. hehe! I'm sorry, I'm such a tease. lol

Anyway. Thanks, everyone! You are the best readers any writer could ask for. Mwah! :)


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